Virginia Woolf photographed by George Charles Beresford in 1902
"As a teenager, Woolf became so terrified of people that she blushed when someone spoke to her and was incapable of looking strangers in the eye. . One of the things Woolf disliked most in life was being peered at or having someone take her photograph.” (x)
“I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual. I like, I see, to question people about death. I have taken it into my head that I shan’t live until 70. Suppose, I said to myself the other day this pain over my heart suddenly wrung me out like a dish cloth & left me dead?-I was feeling sleepy, indifferent, & calm; & so thought it didn’t much matter, except for L. Then, some bird or light I daresay, or waking wider, set me off wishing to live on my own-wishing chiefly to walk along the river & look at things.”
– Virginia Woolf in her diary, Friday 17 1922 (via vwvw)
tell me how
the absence of you can fill a room
— V.M. from “Please Do Not Die On Me: A Love Letter” (via ahuntersheart)
do you know what it is like
onto a cold window
just to see if there is
left inside you?
— V.M., What I Would Have Asked Jack Gilbert (In response to “The Abandoned Valley”) (via ahuntersheart)
Happy Birthday Audre Lorde! (18 February 1934 - 17 November 1992)
On February 11, 1963 Sylvia Plath committed suicide. Fifty years after her death, her poetry continues to haunt and inspire millions of readers, including myself. Today, I hope many of you will pick up Ariel or The Bell Jar or any other Plath book and remember not just her tragically short life but her brilliant and electrifying work. That is certainly what I intend to do.
Happy Birthday Virginia Woolf (25 January 1882 - 28 March 1941)
A new daguerreotype of Emily Dickinson? Click image for full story.